


Stand By Me (expanded version)

by look_turtles



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/pseuds/look_turtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold sings to John</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When The Night Has Come

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stand By Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7283317) by [look_turtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/pseuds/look_turtles). 



> This was originally going to be a one-shot, but I decided to make it at least two chapters.

John walked into his apartment and made his way to his bedroom. As he made his way down the hall he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall on the green carpeted floor like a snake shedding its skin. He hissed as the cool air hit his bare chest. 

It had been a long day and he needed to untwined a little. Usually when he needed to untwined he cleaned his favourite gun, but this time he wanted to do something different.

Once in his bedroom, he unbuttoned his pants, slid them down and let them fall to the floor. Next, he removed his white cotton underwear. Walking over to his bed, he laid down and slid his hand down to his half-hard cock.

The light blue sheets under him smelled and he would have to remember to do laundry, but right now he had other things on his mind.

He gave his cock a few light strokes, hard strokes and a dry hand didn't mix unless you liked sandpaper around your dick.

He reached over to the end table by his bed and squeezed some skin lotion on his hand. 

Once again he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it. He settled back against his pillow and shut his eyes.

As he slid his hand up and down his hard cock, he pictured Finch's hand instead of his own. After several minutes of 'Finch' stroking his cock, he felt his orgasm building. He tightened his grip and sped up his stroke.

He closed his eyes and came. As he came down from his orgasm, he kept his eyes shut.

He should have felt guilty that he was having fantasies about his boss and he did. It was his punishment to imagine something he could never have. He had a lot to punish himself for.

The next day, John got off his motorcycle pulled off his helmet. He was undercover as a bull rider and wore a blue flannel shirt and jeans. Finch had picked out the outfit and while the shirt was the right size, the pants were a little too tight. That was strange because Finch knew his measurements, but he didn't think too much about it.

An old man came up to John. His face was tan and a mass of wrinkles. He was what people thought when they thought of cowboys. He even had a toothpick his mouth and wore a white cowboy hat. He wore a black shirt and black pants. 

'You John Cartwright?' The old man asked as he looked John up and down.

'Yeah.'

'Good. You drew Fluffy,' he said as he walked away, giving John no choice but to follow.

They walked through the back rodeo and the smell of hay and dust made John's nose itch.

They stepped in front of a metal pen that had a bull inside.

The sun beat down on John, but that wasn't why he was sweating. He was staring into the yellow eyes of the bull named Fluffy. He looked like he was more muscle than cow. He stared at Fluffy and wondered how the hell he was going to ride the bull. He had done a lot o things in his life, but riding bulls wasn't one of them. 

'He's a big un',' the cowboy said with a toothpick in his mouth.

'Yeah. Any tips?'

The old man spit out his toothpick. 'You'll be fine. Just hold on. Name's Mike by the way.'

John stared back at Fluffy and the bull snorted as if to challenge him.

Later that night, John walked into his apartment with his arm in a sling. John had tried to hold on to Fluffy, but Fluffy had thrown him. All things considered, he was lucky to walk away with his arm was in a sling. He could handle any gun, but a large bovine was too much.

He went over to his refrigerator. The only things inside were a box of baking soda that had come with the apartment a dozen bottles of beer. Taking out a beer, he let the cold glass chill his fingers. He had said no to pain killers for his shoulder just so he could have a beer.

Walking over to his lumpy green couch, he thought about his life so far. As far as anybody was concerned he was dead, but he spent his days saving people. If it hadn't been for Finch he would be dead for real. Just thinking about Finch made him smile and not just because Finch had given him a purpose. 

Sitting down, he was about to turn on the tv and nurse is wounds with a cheesy sci-fi movie and a beer when there was a knock at his door. He checked the peep hole app that Harold had put on his phone and smiled when he saw Harold standing in front of his door.

Walking over to the door his heart sped up. He opened the door and stepped back to let his boss in.

'Hey, to what do I owe the visit?' John asked with a grin.

'I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw your rodeo accident.'

'I'm fine. Nothing a beer won't fix.'

'Good. Well I should be going,' Harold said.

'You can stay,' John walked over to the couch and his heart skipped a beat as Harold followed him.

'Want a beer?' John asked.

'Please'.

John walked over to his fridge and took out a beer. 

Walking back to the couch, he handed Harold the beer and their fingers brushed. Harold blushed and that was interesting, to say the least. 

John sat down and drank his beer. Harold was so close on the couch that his cool scent filled John nose. He knew he had it bad, but Harold being in his apartment made it worse. It was almost domestic and while he knew he wasn't a domestic type of guy, he was more comfortable with a gun than a dinner party, he would make a exception for Harold.

'Want to watch some sci-fi?' John asked to break the silence. He knew he was staring at Finch, but he couldn't look away. It must have been Finch's hair, it couldn't possibly be as soft as it looked.

'Of course,' Finch said with a grin.

'What's your poison? You look like a Captain Kirk kind of guy.'

'Actually I prefer Dr. Who.'

'Really? Which season is your favorite?' John said because while he didn't really care about Dr. Who, he wanted to hear Finch talk. To be completely honest he could listen to Finch read a phone book.

While Finch talked, John drank. After several beers, he had enough liquid courage to ask Finch something.

'Will you sing to me?'

Finch's eyes went wide. 'Pardon.'

'My mom used to sing to me and it always made me feel better.' 

Finch removed his glasses and became Harold. 'Ah, I see. In that case I can't say no. Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?

'Nah. Your chose.'

'When the night had come  
And the land is dark  
And the moon is the only light you see...'

As Harold sang, John just let the words wash over him like warm ocean waves. His singing voice was even better than his talking voice.

Once Harold was finished, he stood up to leave.

John stood next to him.

'John what are y...' Harold started to say, but stopped as John put his hand on Harold's cheek and held his face gently. If things went bad he would blame the beer.

'This is me standing by you. Can I kiss you?' John asked suddenly feeling brave.

Harold smiled and his face lit up. 'Of course. I had hoped you would ask someday.'

John moved and his lips brushed Harold's. Harold made a happy noise against John's mouth. John deepened the kiss and Harold's hand came up and combed through John's hair. After several long moments of kissing, John broke the kiss and grinned when he heard Harold panting.

'Oh, my. That was... That was...' Harold said between pants.

'Yeah. You want to move to the couch and kiss some more?' John asked with a smirk.

'Oh, yes.'

John took Harold hand, he revelled in the feeling of warm skin and lead them back to the couch.

'Do you mind if I change my pants? They're tight.'

Finch blushed.

'You picked out tight pants on purpose, didn't you?' John asked as his thumb slid over Harold's hand.

'I may have. I thought you would look fetching in them.'

John smirked. 'Never pegged for an ass man.'

Harold sputtered and John took the opportunity to kiss him. 

As they kissed he thought undercover jobs weren't so bad, as long as the only cows he saw from now on were ones on his plate covered in steak sauce.


	2. The one where Bear is a hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. My muse decided to take a long vacation.

John was walking down the sidewalk when he spied a brightly coloured food truck with a dopey cartoon hotdog painted on the side.

'What do you think? Hotdogs today?' He asked Bear who was walking next to him.

'You know when you talk to that dog it makes people think you have a screw loose,' Fusco said as he walked ahead of John.

'You're just jealous that I have a dog to talk to.'

John walked up to the food truck and stood in line. He decided that he going to buy some lunch for Harold. It still felt strange to think of how their relationship had changed, but also stayed the same. During the day, Harold was Finch his boss, but when work was over he became Harold. It had only been a few weeks and all they had done was kiss, but John enjoyed every minute. 

John was trying to decide if he should have ketchup or mustard on his dog, when his real dog pulled at his leach. Bear pulled the leach out of John's hand and went running. John saw that he was running toward a man who was trying to pull a purse out of a women's hand. 

John hurried over. Bear barked and growled and the man let go of the purse. 

'Freeze. You're under arrest,' John said going into Detective Riley mode.

The man coward. 'Fine. Fine. Just keep that dog away from me.'

John went over to the women. She was an older women with gray hair and she wore a sweater with a cat on it.

'Are you all right ma'am?'

'Oh yes. Thank you. Who are you?'

Fusco (who had ran after John) took out his handcuffs and cuffed the purse snatcher. 

'Just a concerned police officer,' John said. He had to admit that being cop was much easier than kneecapping people, not as fun though.

'Don't think that I'm doing the paperwork. That's all you, Riley,' Fusco said as he read the purse snatcher his rights.

'Fine. I'll buy you a hotdog for your trouble.'

'Thank you, Officer. Are you single? I have a very pretty granddaughter,' the lady said as she clutched her purse.

'Thanks but I'm taken.'

'Oh. She's very lucky.'

John thought that he was the lucky one.

Later that day, after John had finished up the paperwork on the purse snatcher he walked into the subway tunnels and made his way to the subway car that Harold used as an office.

The car was all metal and dirty glass windows. The seats were ripped and stained. It always amazed him that Harold could keep his suit so clean when surrounded by filth.

He sat down and sighed.

'Something wrong, John?' Harold asked.

'Nah. Just a long day.'

'I hate to make it longer, but we received a new Number.'

'I'm on it.'

Later that night, John was in a park with only the stars and moon and a few street lamps to light his way. Even with the little bit of light, he could still see the figure standing over The Number. The figure was Dan Smith ex-boyfriend of Sally Robins. Sally was the one cowering on the ground with a gun pointed at her.

There was several ways to handle the situation, but John decided on the direct route. He snuck up behind Dan and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Dan crumpled like a paper sack. Sally looked up at him with big eyes. 

'You okay?' John asked as he helped her to her feet.

'Yeah. You saved me. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.'

After making sure that Sally was safe and Dan was locked up, John want to his apartment. When he opened the door he saw that Harold was sitting on his couch. 

'To what do I owe this surprise?' John asked as he walked over and sat next to Harold.

'I was thinking... That is to say... Would you like for me to rub your cock,' Harold stammered as his face turned red.

'You don't have to, kissing is just fine by me.'

'I want to.' 

'Can I touch your cock too?' John asked. 

'Of course. Perhaps we should move to your bedroom.'

They walked close as they made their way to John's bedroom. Once inside the room, Harold started removing his clothes and all John could do was stare.

Harold's skin was pale and his chest was covered with dark hair. 

'Are you going to remove your clothes?' Harold asked as his hands stilled.

'Oh... Yeah.' John felt his cheeks heat up. He didn't usually get distracted.

He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall.

Harold moved close and John hissed when Harold's tongue came out and licked his neck.

'Fuck!' John exclaimed as his cock hardened.

'Do you find that pleasurable?' Harold stopped licking and (finally) started to take off his pants.

'Oh yeah.'

As Harold slid is pants and underwear down his pale thighs, John soaked it all in. Harold's cock was already hard and thick, his balls were covered with dark hair. What drew John's attention was the trail of dark hair that lead from  
Harold belly button to his groin. John wanted to see if that hair was as soft as it looked.

'Let me help you,' Harold said as he opened John's pants.

Harold's hands made quick work of John pants and underwear. The fabric was pooled around John ankles as Harold kneaded John thighs.

John stepped out of his pants. Harold moved awkwardly to the bed to sit down as he slid his pants and underwear over his feet.

He laid back and reached out for John. The bed had never looked so inventing and he walked over to it

He carefully settled against Harold and kissed him. As they kissed John felt Harold's cock poke him in the thigh.

After several minutes of kissing, John broke the kiss. 'You said something about touching each other's cocks?'

Harold blinked in confusion. John grinned, he had finally found a way to shut off Harold's supercomputer brain.

'Of course,' Harold said as his hands slid up and down John's back.

John each over to the table by his bed and grabbed a bottle of skin lotion. He squeezed some onto Harold's hand and then his own.

Harold reached between them and wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks. John groaned as Harold's hand stroked both of their cocks.

They kissed and the kisses quickly turned messy.

John reached down and intertwined his fingers with Harold's. As their hands moved up and down their shafts, they moaned and groaned.

Much too soon, John felt his orgasm building. Harold must have realised because he sped up his strokes.

John came hard and Harold came shortly afterward.

It might have been the hormones rushing through his system, but John laughed. He laughed so hard that his whole body shook.

As he laughed he buried his face in Harold's neck. Harold just rubbed John's back. 

He thought about getting up and cleaning the come between them, but he couldn't care if the come glued them together permanently.

There was no place he'd rather be.


End file.
